


Artificial Flavoring

by Cottonstones



Category: Kids w/ Problems RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Drunk Sex, First Time, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 06:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11503260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottonstones/pseuds/Cottonstones
Summary: Ryan and Matt get drunk during their recording session. Matt is a bit of a needy drunk as Ryan is quickly figuring out.





	Artificial Flavoring

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Drunk Mario Kart series on Supermega's channel. Also, as a note Matt is consenting to the sex in the fic. I added the dubious consent because I felt more comfortable putting it with the drunk sex since they're both drinking in the fic, but the sex between them is 100% consensual.

Matt is way too fucking drunk. Ryan’s not doing great himself, but Matt got beat by the ugly end of the alcohol stick. Matt wasn’t even this bad when Ryan took him out for his twenty-first birthday. Really, Ryan’s never seen Matt this fucked up before. They had finished the recording and somehow managed to call an Uber – well, _Ryan_ called the Uber while Matt screeched about wanting to go home in the background – but they got their ride home. 

Matt is slumped over against Ryan, his head pillowed on Ryan’s shoulder, breathing deep and heavy like he’s sleeping. Ryan’s embarrassed, too aware of the way the Uber driver’s eyes keep finding them in the rear view mirror. He can feel his cheeks getting red, but not enough to shove Matt off of him. Matt does fall asleep during the ride, dozing lightly against Ryan, it isn’t hard with the smooth ride, the quiet of the night. It’s late, verging on one-thirty in the morning, Ryan’s surprised he’s even still awake to be honest. 

The driver pulls up outside of their apartment and Ryan sighs, nudging Matt. 

“Matt, Matty, come on. We’re home, dude.” 

Matt moans softly in protest, “No,” he huffs. 

“We’re getting out of the car,” Ryan says, as he opens the door and lets the warm night air roll across Matt’s skin. 

“Don’t let him puke in my car,” The driver says, more of a warning than anything else. 

“He’s not a puker,” Ryan says, “He’s just tired.” he gets out first and Matt wobbles in the seat without Ryan there to hold him in place. Ryan leans back in and wraps his fingers around Matt’s wrist, tugging as he urges Matt out of the car, “Come on.” 

Matt finally gets his body working as he slips from the car and into Ryan’s arms, leaning heavily against Ryan’s chest, his hands bracing on Ryan’s forearms. The driver shakes his head at them and Ryan closes the door a little more forcefully than necessary. He feels a weird anger sliding down his spine and he wishes he hadn’t given the driver a tip, he wishes Matt hadn’t gotten so fucked up. 

“I’m pretty sure the Uber guy thinks we’re gay,” Ryan says, “Because you’re a handsy drunk.” 

“So?” Matt says, “Nothin’ wrong with being gay,” he mumbles, clinging to Ryan like his life depended on it.

Ryan has a hell of a time leading Matt up the stairs of their building, dragging him towards the elevator because no fucking way was he attempting to climb the flights of stairs with Matt stumbling around and hanging off of him like an oversized Capuchin monkey. 

“Ple-Please don’t drop me,” Matt whines, his hands tightening on Ryan’s arms. 

“Chill, I got you,” Ryan says, partially amused and partially irritated by Matt’s behavior. Ryan admittedly had only been in college for a short time, but Matt was reminding him of one of those high school kids who somehow found their way into a college party, got in over their head and needed to be saved. Ryan wasn’t exactly the best at saving people, but he was all Matt had at the moment.

Ryan somehow manages to get them both into the apartment and shuts the door behind them. Matt slumps against him again, his forehead pressing against Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan can feel Matt’s breath hot and damp against the skin of his neck and it makes him shiver where he’s pressed against the door with Matt’s body pinning him there. Ryan’s hands settle on Matt’s hips; he means to use it as leverage to shove Matt away and guide him to the couch where he can let him sleep off the alcohol, but then he’s holding Matt’s sharp hips and Matt digs his fingers into Ryan’s t-shirt and clings. 

“You know we’re home, don’t you?” Ryan asks, his eyes fluttering with the effort of keeping them open. 

“We are? We made it? You got us home?” Matt asks, pulling back long enough to look Ryan in the eyes. 

Their faces are way too close and Ryan can smell the alcohol on Matt’s breath. He’s still holding Matt’s hips in his hands, but he lets out a low laugh, “Yeah, I got us home, buddy.” 

“You’re the best,” Matt says, “Ryan, you’re the best. You’re my best friend, dude.” 

“Oh my God, you’re getting sappy on me,” Ryan says, “I’m gonna dump you on the couch and go to bed,” Ryan takes a step forward guiding Matt towards the couch. 

“No!” Matt says, “No, Ryan, don’t leave me out here!” Matt sound pathetic and desperate, his hands skating the expanse of Ryan’s back, fingers curling into the fabric of Ryan’s shirt. 

“Matt,” Ryan says with a sigh, “I’m tired.” 

“You could at-at least put me in my bed!” Matt whines. God, he was a pathetic drunk. He was whiny and needy, and so unlike the sober Matt that Ryan was used to. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was weirdly cute that Matt was being clingy and how fucking drunk Matt is that he has to depend on Ryan, but Ryan’s never really liked being the responsible one between them. 

“Fine,” Ryan says, guiding Matt backwards towards their bedrooms. Hoping to get Matt to bed so he could climb into his own waiting bed and get some sleep. 

“Ryan,” Matt says, his eyes barely open as they walk. 

“What?” Ryan asks, trying to move the both of them and avoid stepping on Banana or Lego as they scramble around their feet, excited to see their owners home for the night. It feels next to impossible with the way Matt’s dragging his feet, the way it feels like he’s trying to climb Ryan’s body instead of walking on his own. 

“You didn’t say I was your best friend,” Matt says. 

“What?” 

“I told you that yo-you were my best friend and you didn’t say _I_ was _your_ best friend. A-Am I not your best friend?” 

“Matt,” Ryan says, “Matt seriously?” 

Matt uses whatever strength he must have left in his body to shove at Ryan and for the second time tonight he’s pinning Ryan to the nearest surface; this time, it’s the hallway in their apartment. His hold isn’t strong and Ryan could easily break out of it, but Matt’s blinking at him with cloudy blue eyes that look way too serious all of the sudden. 

“Am I your best friend?” 

“You are my best friend,” Ryan says, feeling weird to admit it even though he knows it’s the truth. He doesn’t like the label, the titles, doesn’t like applying it to anyone anymore, because it just gives more ammo to the relationship, makes the wound that much bigger when the label no longer applies, when things happen, and shit falls apart. 

“Good,” Matt says. He’s close again and he presses his face into Ryan’s neck, “Good,” he says again, his voice muffled by Ryan’s body, “Cuz, I love you, Ryan, a lot…and sometimes I wonder if you even like me.” 

“You know I like you. We live together and work together. If I didn’t like you, I think you’d know it by now.” 

Why was Matt being so weird? He was never letting Matt drink again if this is what happened when Matt got shitfaced drunk. Matt is quiet and Ryan sighs. 

“I’m taking you to bed.” 

“Okay,” Matt mumbles. 

Ryan inches the two of them down the hallway. His own body is beginning to flag under the effects of the alcohol. He feels sluggish and tired, and he doesn’t like the way Matt’s talking, the feelings he’s flaring to life inside of Ryan. Of course, he cares about Matt. He loves Matt, he just doesn’t like to say it, doesn’t like to talk about that kind of stuff anymore. 

Ryan opens Matt’s bedroom door and walks Matt backwards into it. His bed is mostly cleared off and it’s easy for Ryan to drop him onto the mattress. Well, it was _supposed_ to be easy. He didn’t account for Matt clinging to him and their combined weight knocking Ryan’s balance off. He didn’t account for toppling forward onto Matt’s bed with him. 

“Ow,” Matt says quietly. 

Ryan lifts himself just enough so he isn’t crushing Matt against the mattress under them. 

“Don’t say ‘ow’, it’s _your_ fault I fell!” 

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, blinking up at Ryan. One of his hands moves from where it’s tangled in Ryan’s shirt, inching upwards so that his fingers skate the shaved line of Ryan’s hair, knocking Ryan’s baseball cap off in the process. 

“What the hell are you _doing_?” Ryan asks. 

“I don’t know,” Matt says softly. He rubs his fingers against Ryan’s buzz cut, “is it bad?” 

“It’s weird,” Ryan says, trying to ignore the way the light touch is making sparks erupt in his skin, the way it’s making him shiver, “You’re being fucking weird, Matt.” 

“No, I’m not,” Matt slurs, his fingers still petting Ryan’s head, the other hand sliding along the expanse of Ryan’s side, “You’re my best friend and I love you,” Matt says, as if he hadn’t said it mere moments ago out in the hall. 

“I’m not sure best friends stroke each other’s hair,” Ryan says. He needs to just get the fuck out of here. Matt’s drunk, he’s drunk, and Ryan shouldn’t be in here letting Matt touch him. It’s fucking weird. 

“Well, damn, Ryan, it’s not long enough for me to braid it.” 

Ryan snorts. There’s the Matt he knew, the one he was familiar with. It relaxes him a little. 

“Alright, well, you’re in bed and I’m going to go to bed too because we have to work tomorrow,” Ryan says, making to push off the mattress. 

Matt grabs his wrist, slender fingers tight around Ryan’s arm. 

“Wait, don’t.” 

“What?” Ryan asks, blinking down at Matt. 

“Stay here with me,” Matt says, staring up at Ryan with big serious eyes, “Ryan, stay here.” 

“You’re doing that weird shit again,” Ryan says, something in his stomach flopping around. He needs to _go_. 

The hand that had been stroking a line against Ryan’s side inches down, his fingertips slipping under the fabric of his shirt and pressing warm against Ryan’s stomach. Ryan sucks in a sharp breath and he looks down at where Matt’s hand is touching his skin, stroking light and comforting, and making Ryan’s body extremely confused. 

“Matt?” 

“Shh,” Matt says, “It’s okay, right? It doesn’t feel bad, does it?” 

Ryan swallows. Well, fuck, it _doesn’t_ feel bad, but it’s _weird_ and Ryan’s got a heat building in his belly, an interest, something that feels like arousal, but it shouldn’t be there because this is _Matt_ touching him and not some girl. It’s _Matt_ , his male best friend, his _drunk_ , male, best friend. 

“Matt…” Ryan says, “I don’t think you know what you’re doing.” 

“I do too,” Matt argues. His eyes are barely slits as his hand slides upwards, running over the expanse of Ryan’s chest, fingers tracing lines through the dark dusting of hair as he inches upwards, “I just want to be close to you.” 

“I think we’re already really close,” Ryan argues, “I’ve seen you naked and vice versa.” 

“But,” Matt says, his other hand releasing Ryan’s wrist and going to the bottom of Ryan’s shirt where he’s grabbing and tugging, trying to pull Ryan’s t-shirt off, “But we could be closer, couldn’t we?” 

“What the fuck are you saying?” Ryan asks; he’s tired, embarrassed, lost to what Matt means, what he wants. He hates to admit that he’s scared. 

“That I-I wa-want you to fuck me,” Matt says, softly, plainly, like he’s asking Ryan for a glass of water or some mundane shit, and not this huge life-altering thing. 

“What? Fuck that,” Ryan says with a giggle, “Fuck off. Stop fucking with me, dude.” 

Matt pushes up on his elbows so he and Ryan are suddenly a lot closer than they were a second ago. 

“I’m not fucking with you. I want you. I want t-to feel you, Ry-Ryan. I- “ 

“Jesus,” Ryan says, “Matt, are you fucking serious?” 

Matt doesn’t answer, but he leans in and then he’s kissing Ryan’s cheek and it feels way too innocent for the words that are coming out of Matt’s mouth, for what he’s asking Ryan to do. Ryan sucks in a breath, but he doesn’t shove Matt away, he doesn’t run like he thinks he should. His brain is slow, sluggish, ticking with thoughts and ideas that seem too strange and unrealistic to be plausible. 

Matt’s mouth is damp, his lips rough as they inch across Ryan’s face, tracking a line from his cheek down to his lips. Matt pauses, the last second before something happens, the last second for Ryan to shove him down into the mattress and leave him to sleep all this shit off. Matt’s breath is hot against Ryan’s face and he can feel the ghost of a touch against his mouth. 

And then, then Matt is pressing a soft kiss to Ryan’s lips, testing and quiet.

For the first time since Ryan’s known Matt he’s single, no girlfriend, no one to report home to. For the first time since they’ve become friends Matt isn’t with anyone, and now he’s drunk, and he’s kissing Ryan and asking for more than Ryan thinks he can give. 

Matt’s hand is back in Ryan’s hair, cupping the back of his head, stroking at the warm skin of his neck and Ryan can’t fight the shiver that takes him. It’s been awhile since he’s kissed anyone, since he’s hooked up with anyone. He has a bad tendency to work and stay at home, skipping going out with Matt and the guys, and fuck, maybe he’s lonely, and maybe he’s drunk, but the small voice in the back of his head is telling him what a royally bad idea this is, how he’s bound to fuck up everything if he lets Matt kiss him right now. 

“Matt,” Ryan says, trying to break away from Matt’s mouth. 

Matt lets him go, but he lingers, his hands still on Ryan.

“What?” 

“You’re drunk…I’m drunk. We’re not thinking straight…you’d never kiss me if you were sober.” 

“Don’t tell me what I would and wouldn’t do. You don’t know,” Matt says defensively, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.” 

“H-How long?” Ryan asks, his arms aching from holding himself up above Matt. 

Matt lies down on the bed, eyes falling closed and he’s still and quiet as the seconds tick on. He’s quiet long enough that a part of Ryan thinks that he’s passed out and this issue has worked itself into a cliffhanger of a resolution, but then Matt’s tongue darts out to lick at his lips. 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Ryan can’t keep himself up any longer. He lies down on his side in Matt’s bed, turned facing his best friend, business partner, the person he trusts so much in his life to. He doesn’t know what to say, what to do. Why did they decide to drink tonight? They have to work tomorrow and Ryan is tired, but his stomach is still tingling from when Matt touched him, from when Matt kissed him. They’ve kissed before but this didn’t feel like any of those times. 

“Why are we even talking about this?” Matt says, “You’re making it harder than it has to be. Just…don’t think about it. Just fuck me.” 

“Matt, holy shit,” Ryan breathes. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches to life in his basketball shorts. He can’t deny that hearing Matt talk like this is turning him on. 

Matt turns so he’s close to Ryan. He presses into Ryan’s space and catches his mouth in a second kiss, slow, careful, like he’s expecting to be shoved away, to be punched or knocked off the bed, or for Ryan to get up and run. As they kiss Matt’s knee presses against Ryan’s crotch and Ryan makes a surprised noise against Matt’s mouth, his head spinning. 

“I…” Matt breaths, he lets out a small laugh, “I can feel you’re getting hard. You like it? The idea of fucking me? No one’s ever fucked me before…you’d be the first. I-I’m a virgin and y-you can have me, Ryan.” 

“ _Matt_ ,” Ryan says, he wants to laugh because this is all so fucking ridiculous but Matt’s brushing against his dick and offering his body up, and Ryan’s resistance is wearing thin. How long can he fight it? He is getting hard and he hasn’t gotten up to leave. He’s never fucked a guy before, doesn’t know how it works beyond the knowledge that his dick has to fit inside of Matt. 

“You’ve never been with a guy and you want to jump right into being fucked? Do you even know what you’re doing?” 

“I watched a couple videos…” Matt mumbles, “I remember.” 

Matt moves from Ryan and he lies on his back, undoing the button to his jeans before he starts sliding them down, his hands sloppy and uncoordinated and Ryan has to reach down and help tug his jeans off, Matt throwing them unceremoniously to the floor next to the bed. He lies back on his back, reaches out and touches Ryan’s arm as he glances at him. 

Ryan, against every red flag in his brain, shifts so he’s on top of Matt, covering him with his body, settling between Matt’s spread thighs. Matt presses up and kisses Ryan again, hands holding on to Ryan’s forearms. The kissing starts slow but it grows frantic, Matt’s tongue sliding into Ryan’s mouth, tasting like vodka and artificial watermelon flavoring. 

Matt grinds his hips up against Ryan’s, whimpering into their kiss. Ryan is turning off the logical parts of his brain, the parts that remind him that this is Matt, and that this is a terrible idea. He’s following instinct, the feeling of want and need, and sex with another person. 

From his limited knowledge on the subject Ryan knows that Matt’s gotta be wet and slick and he breaks their kiss. He presses three of his fingers to Matt’s red lips. 

“Suck,” he says. 

Matt moans, breathy and needy and it makes Ryan’s cock twitch in his shorts. Matt leans forward and takes all three of Ryan’s fingers into his mouth, wrapping his lips around them and sucking hard, lapping at the digits with his tongue.

“Fuck,” Ryan hisses and that seems to only encourage Matt further. He grinds upwards against Ryan’s thigh and Ryan can feel him hard in his boxers. It’s strange, but not bad, he’s more relieved to feel Matt hard too, glad to know that he isn’t the only one. 

Matt looks so pretty with his mouth stretched and full of Ryan’s fingers. He makes these wet noises as he sucks at Ryan’s digits. He’s a drooling, horny, mess and Ryan is so fucking turned on right now. Matt breaks the seal around Ryan’s fingers so he can catch a breath and Ryan wiggles them, feeling the cool air cling to the spit from Matt’s mouth. 

“Now what?” Ryan asks. 

“Now, you finger me,” Matt says, his face as red as his mouth. 

“I…” fuck, that felt intimidating. Ryan’s never been with a guy and while he takes pride in his personal sex skills, he doesn’t think they translate well to Matt. He doesn’t know how to make Matt feel good, how not to hurt him. He doesn’t know when to stop, when Matt is ready. 

“Don’t overthink it. Pretend I’m a chick.” 

Matt rolls over on his stomach and then he’s grabbing at his boxers and pulling them down too, they bunch around his knees but Matt doesn’t seem to mind. He presses his ass in the air, offering himself to Ryan. Ryan’s seen Matt’s asshole too many times to count, but never quite like this. He rubs his thumb over the pink ring of muscle and watches Matt shiver in response. There’s something so hot about watching Matt react to his touch, some exciting buzz that lingers under the surface of his skin. 

If Matt really were a girl or someone that Ryan usually slept with, he’d tease a little before sinking into her. Ryan rubs at Matt’s hole and he watches Matt twitch and gasp and press his face into the pillows as he shivers. 

“Have you done this to yourself?” Ryan asks, “Spent nights locked in your room with your fingers up your ass?” 

Matt moans into his pillow, “Y-Yes.” 

Ryan shifts and begins to press into Matt, feels Matt’s body begin to give and let him in. 

“Oh…fuck…” Matt mumbles, shifting his face against the pillow, panting already even as Ryan has only just begun to finger him. 

Matt is ungodly tight around Ryan’s finger, hot and mostly dry, feeling different from a girl, but not bad. 

“You’re tight,” Ryan says. 

Matt moans, flings his arm out towards his nightstand. Ryan backs up and pulls out, giving Matt space, “H-Here,” Matt says, digging around in the drawer before tossing something behind his shoulder, a small bottle hitting Ryan in the chest half-a-second later. 

Ryan picks up a bottle of lube and pops the cap. The lube is half-full, a clear signifier that Matt’s been using it. Ryan imagines him in his bedroom after having told Ryan he was going to sleep, he imagines Matt with a hand over his mouth trying to keep himself quiet as he presses his long, slender fingers into himself, fucks his own ass, maybe imaging Ryan while he does it. 

Ryan squirts lube onto his fingers and rubs them together spreading the slickness. He grabs Matt’s ass to steady himself, his fingers digging into the pale flesh. Ryan rubs over Matt’s hole again and watches Matt’s body jolt under his touch. 

This time when Ryan presses into Matt the slide is easier. He moans loud and wet against the pillow and presses back into Ryan’s touch. 

“Y-Your fingers are…are so much bigger than mine,” Matt says through a shaky breath. 

“Does it hurt?” Ryan asks. He feels that odd tightness of Matt clenching around him, the idea strange and hot all at the same time. This is Matt unlike he’s ever seen before, but he doesn’t hate it; it’s mesmerizing in a way, addicting to see how Matt reacts to his touch. 

“No…no…it’s a lot but it doesn’t hurt.” 

Ryan starts to move his finger inside, fucking lightly into Matt. He watches the way Matt’s back arches, how his pale skin is turning splotchy and pink, how his t-shirt is riding up under his arms from the way he’s positioning himself for Ryan. He makes all these little noises as he rocks backwards into Ryan’s touch, tiny gasps and hums that Ryan isn’t sure Matt’s even aware he’s making. 

Ryan ventures to adding a second finger into Matt, watching his ass stretch around the addition. 

“Move ‘em like…a scissor…” Matt says, “You gotta stretch me so I can take your cock.” 

“Fuck,” Ryan says, his dick twitching in his shorts. He drops his free hand to his crotch, palming himself through the fabric. He can’t deny how turned on he is, how ready he is to feel Matt tight around his cock instead of his fingers. 

Ryan does what Matt asks of him. He scissors his fingers inside of Matt, stretching him, watching Matt’s hand slide between his own legs, watching him stroke his cock, still making all those sweet little sounds. 

“You’re unbelievable, Matt,” Ryan says, rubbing his hand over the small of Matt’s back. 

Matt lifts his head, “Ryan, I’m good. Okay? I’m good now. I need you to fuck me.” 

“Are…are you sure? You said you’ve never been fucked and I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“I’m sure, I’m sure. I just…I’m ready. I’m so ready.” 

Ryan doesn’t remove his fingers right away. He moves his fingers inside of Matt, stretching him. Matt clenches around Ryan’s fingers and whines. 

“ _Ryan_.” 

“Alright, shit, hold your horses, dude.” Ryan pulls his fingers out, wiping them on Matt’s thigh. He pushes down his basketball shorts and picks up the lube, squeezing some of the clear liquid out onto his palm. If the two of them were sober maybe it wouldn’t be happening so fast, maybe Matt would need more time, fuck, maybe they wouldn’t have kissed at all. 

“You got a condom or?” Ryan asks. 

“No…I kept meaning to buy some. Do you?” 

“No, it’s been awhile since I’ve gotten laid,” Ryan admits. 

“It’s okay,” Matt says, “I trust you.” 

Ryan feels something stir inside of him and he slicks himself up with the lube, groaning as his wet hand strokes his achingly hard dick. His brain feels so fuzzy, he feels like he’s moving in slow motion. He’s tired and horny and has no idea what to do with any of this. 

“How do you want to…?” Ryan asks, unsure of what would work best or what Matt wants, if he even knows what would be the best to do. 

“Maybe like missionary? I want to see you,” Matt says. He turns over, rolling onto his back, looking small and soft and pretty in his bed with Ryan hovering over him. 

Ryan knee-walks to Matt. He grabs at Matt’s boxers and tugs them off the rest of the way. Matt opens his legs, spreading them to make room for Ryan to settle between them. Like this, he can see Matt’s hard dick flush against his stomach. He’s a good size when he’s hard, maybe even a little bigger than Ryan’s own dick, though not as thick. 

Ryan reaches out and he strokes Matt’s cock, an automatic movement, but Matt moans loud, arching his back and pressing his head against the pillows. Ryan can see the muscles in his neck, the way his throat moves as he swallows. 

“You got a pretty big dick,” Ryan says, stroking Matt from base to tip, rubbing his thumb over the slit in the way Ryan likes to be touched. 

“You want me to fuck you sometime?” Matt says, his eyes closed and his cheeks a soft pink, a huge dumb smile spreading across his face. 

He’s kidding, at least Ryan thinks he is, but he can’t help but imagine it. He imagines the reverse, with Matt bearing down on him, and Ryan spreading his legs, offering himself up for Matt to take and use. The images makes his dick throb in his hand. 

“Let’s just focus on right now.” 

Ryan settles over Matt and he leans in to press a kiss to Matt’s mouth, their dicks brushing in the process as they move together. The feeling is strange, but electric, making heat flood Ryan’s stomach. He takes his cock in hand and guides himself to Matt’s hole. The position is strange and Ryan can’t seem to find the leverage he needs to press inside. 

“This…I don’t know if I’m doing this right,” Ryan says, feeling big, and clumsy, and dumb. 

“It’s not rocket science,” Matt says, rubbing at Ryan’s arms.

“I know that! It’s my first time with a dude too, Jesus.” Ryan has an idea filter through his head. He takes Matt’s thin thigh in his hand, lifting his leg, “Here, put your leg over my shoulder, Matt.” 

Matt complies and he hooks his long spindly leg over Ryan’s shoulder, opening himself up and giving Ryan a better view of his entrance. 

“Other one around my waist.” 

Matt follows the order surprisingly well for how drunk he is, hitching his leg high around Ryan’s waist, his heel pressing against Ryan’s lower back. Like this, the positioning is a little easier and Ryan tries to guide himself to Matt’s hole for the second time. 

Matt makes a soft sharp noise and Ryan goes still. He’s pressing against Matt’s entrance and already he can feel the pressure, the promising tightness that will clench against him. It takes every ounce of willpower he has to not move a single inch. 

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks, staring down at Matt, checking for any last second changing of minds. 

“Yeah,” Matt nods, “Yeah, I’m okay. You just feel so big there.” 

Ryan dips his head and presses a kiss to Matt’s jaw, “You know how to boost a guy’s ego, huh?” 

Matt’s eyes flutter shut and his hands move to Ryan’s back, his fingers holding onto Ryan’s shirt. 

“I’m ready.” 

Ryan rolls his hips forward, inches himself inside and he can feel the moment that he begins to sink into Matt. He can feel when Matt opens up for him. It’s a slow process and Matt feels so incredibly, deliciously tight. Ryan’s been on a dry-spell, drunk, turned on like no one would believe, and it takes all he has not to come as soon as he feels that tight heat of Matt’s body. 

Ryan eases himself inside of Matt, watching Matt’s face for signs of pain. Matt’s got his jaw clenched tight, his eyes shut, but he doesn’t look like it’s horrible, just like it’s a lot, like he said before. If Matt wants Ryan to stop he’ll say it and Ryan waits to hear it, freezing inside of Matt as he lets them both adjust. 

“You feel so good around me,” Ryan says, “Matt, this is fucking wild.” 

“I know,” Matt says, rubbing at Ryan’s back, “Can you move now?” 

Ryan pulls back a little before he rolls his hips forward again, a slow thrust. He’s been drinking so his moves aren’t as coordinated or as smooth as he would usually be, and he hopes Matt doesn’t judge him too harshly on this experience. 

“F-Fuck,” Matt says, biting his lip. His hand drifts down between them, seeking out his dick and stroking himself again. 

“Is it getting better?” Ryan asks. 

“Yeah, definitely. I feel so full…God…I like it.” 

Carefully, Ryan builds a slow pace. He rocks into Matt, listening to the mattress creak under their combined weight, listening to Matt panting against his neck. Fucking Matt is good, feels better than Ryan imagined, way better than just his fingers inside of Matt. 

“Ryan,” Matt moans, “Oh fuck.” He slurs his words, eyes fluttering. Hearing his name coming from Matt, sounding like _that_ , it makes that heat in his stomach crank up to a boil. How did Matt sound so good? Feel so good? How was it _Matt_ that was doing this to him? 

Matt tightens up around Ryan again and Ryan hisses. He was so tight already and the extra squeezing around his dick only made things more intense. The idea seeps into him then, the knowledge that Matt is a virgin in this sense and it’s Ryan he’s trusting to take it from him, to do this with him for the first time ever. The weight of that feels heavy on his shoulders and he wants to make it good for Matt, for the both of them. 

Ryan speeds up a fraction and Matt whines, his fingers scraping along the back of Ryan’s head, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against Ryan’s skin, like Ryan is a human worry-stone.

“You’re okay, right?” Ryan asks, leaning over Matt and trying to meet his eyes, slowing his thrusts in case Matt tells him to stop. It feels weird to be so close to Matt, dizzying almost. Their faces are inches apart and Ryan can feel the hot damp push of Matt’s panting breaths against his face, a reminder that just a few hours ago the two of them were at work and recording and now…well, now he was _fucking_ Matt. 

Matt nods, his hands smoothing down Ryan’s broad back. 

“I’m fine. You’re so good. Ryan, Ryan, I just…you’re so good to me, Ryan.” 

“Don’t go sappy on me while we’re fucking,” Ryan says, “if you start weeping or some shit I’m going to lose my boner.” 

A lazy grin spreads over Matt’s face and Ryan thrusts a little harder than before and he watches that grin morph into a moan, watches Matt’s head fall back and his tongue dart out over his lips. 

“Sh-Shit, do that again.” 

“What?” Ryan asks, “This?” he repeats the motion and he can feel Matt start to shake under him. 

“Oh my God,” Matt says, his nails biting into Ryan’s skin, “Fuck. Ryan….”

Ryan sets his face against Matt’s sharp collarbones. He presses a kiss there, sloppy and wet as he starts to build a pace again. It’s hard keeping it even with how tired he feels, how his whole body feels like an anchor and he doesn’t want to crush Matt under him. It feels damn good and it’s been so long for Ryan that he doesn’t want to come too fast. 

“Yeah? You like it? You like when I fuck you?” Ryan breathes into Matt’s skin. He earns a whine from Matt in return, the sound stoking the flames in his belly, encouraging the filth to spill from his mouth and wash over Matt’s skin like ink, like words on a page, “You like being fucked. You’re a cute little twink just like we all said and all it took was a few drinks in you to get you to spread your legs for me.” 

Matt is shaking under Ryan and he’s panting, shifting his hips and letting his cock rub against Ryan’s belly. 

“Did you know from the beginning of the night that you were going to do this? To ask for this? Did you propose the whole idea of drunk Mario Kart because you were hoping I’d fuck your tight little ass?” 

Matt moans but he doesn’t deny it, doesn’t say no and the idea that their session was serving a greater purpose, was leading to this; it’s kind of a turn-on. Matt’s a genius and he’s sneaky and Ryan knows both of these facts the same as he knows Matt can make a plan and he doesn’t put it past him to conjure this idea up. 

“That why you sucked so bad? Kept losing and taking more shots? You wanted an excuse to be a slut and beg me to fuck you?” 

“S-Shit,” Matt breathes as Ryan fucks him through his words. He’s going faster now, his pace steady, encouraged by his own words and the idea that Matt set this all into motion, “R-Ryan, I’m getting close. Ryan please don’t stop.”

Ryan shifts, keeps his speed and fucks into the tight heat of Matt’s body. His mouth finds Matt’s ear. 

“I’m not going to stop. I’m not going to stop until I come inside of you.” 

“F-Fuck,” Matt says, hands gripping at Ryan’s hips as Ryan fucks him, Matt’s heels digging into Ryan’s back, “Will you touch me? Will you touch my dick?” 

“God you’re bossy,” Ryan teases, but he worms a hand between them and grasps Matt’s dick. He’s on overload, too many things commanding his attention all at once. His thrusts slow down, become sloppy, just going off instinct and his body trying to get as much of Matt as possible. 

Matt arches into Ryan’s touch, fucks into Ryan’s fist as Ryan strokes him. He rubs over the head of Matt’s dick, his thumb sliding over the slit and he watches the way Matt groans, the way his eyes roll into the back of his head like he’s straight out of a _Porn Hub_ video.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Matt whimpers, “Ryan, fuck, Ryan…” and Ryan doesn’t let up. He’s always liked seeing what he could make Matt do, what reactions he could get, whether it be from making Matt eat disgusting shit or tying him up and pouring crappy wine over his face, or now, determined to make him come. It didn’t matter what it was, he just likes that he’s having an effect on Matt at all. 

Matt’s panting, squirming, his legs squeezing at Ryan as he whines and then he arches and before Ryan can move his hand Matt is coming all over him. The feeling is hot and sticky and a little disgusting. Ryan doesn’t even like coming on himself or coming on the people he’s having sex with. He releases Matt’s twitching cock and watches Matt crumple to the bed, panting and trying to catch his breath. 

Ryan wipes his hand off on Matt’s belly earning an indignant groan from Matt. 

“It’s _your_ jizz!” Ryan laughs. 

“Now I gotta shower before work tomorrow,” Matt says, lying limp and boneless against the mattress. 

Ryan’s still inside of Matt, can feel the fluttering clenching of Matt’s hole around him. He’s not sure of the protocol. Should he pull out and jerk off? Maybe ask Matt to jerk him off like he had just done? He’s still trying to figure it out when Matt runs a hand through his hair and blinks at Ryan. 

“I thought you said you weren’t going to stop until you came in me?” 

Ryan feels heat spike through him, “Is that what you want?” 

“Yeah,” Matt says, “I want to feel you inside.” 

Ryan bears down over Matt, kisses him a little harder than before, their lips bruising as they meet. He fucks into Matt’s body and Matt clings to him, his arms holding Ryan’s, his leg still over Ryan’s shoulder, the other squeezing Ryan’s hip. The two of them are closer than they’ve ever been, maybe as close now as they ever will be again, and Ryan fucks Matt fast verging on hard and hearing Matt groan into their kiss. 

“Come,” Matt breathes against Ryan’s lips, “Come in me.” 

Hearing Matt say that, it’s embarrassingly enough to push Ryan over the edge. He thrusts into Matt once, twice, before he’s buried inside completely and he’s coming with a groan that sounds more like a roar, the heat building up inside of Ryan leaving him in a flush of arousal and need as he fills Matt up with his come. 

When Ryan can breathe again, when he can think again, he’s lying on top of Matt, pinning him to the bed, with Matt’s hands stroking lazy patterns against his skin.

“Sorry,” Ryan says as he eases out of Matt and rolls over onto his side, cool air clinging to his skin. He feels disgusting and tired, and he’s more confused than when they began. He doesn’t know what to say and Matt’s being way too quiet. 

“Are…are you going to go to your room?” Matt asks, his voice oddly soft, making something heavy shift around in Ryan’s gut. 

“I don’t know,” Ryan says, because he doesn’t, “Should I?” 

“You could sleep here?” Matt suggests, “Just sleep off the alcohol.” 

Ryan’s always been a little soft for Matt, always lets him get away with shit and do what he wants, and maybe Ryan’s kind of scared shitless. He’s tired, he’s drunk, he’s fucked his best friend tonight. He doesn’t want to be alone, doesn’t want to spiral into a million questions about what happens next, what does any of this mean, a bunch of shit he can’t possibly answer tonight.

For now, right now, he lies down in Matt’s bed, turning on his side with his back facing Matt. He feels a blanket being tugged up over them and he feels big hands settling nervously on his side. He feels Matt pressing against him, his scrawny chest against Ryan’s back. 

“Is this…” Matt starts but Ryan doesn’t let him finish. 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling Matt’s arms squeeze against him, “Yeah.” 

They lie there quietly and it isn’t long before Ryan drifts off into an uneasy sleep.


End file.
